Sinister
by KrazyKat001
Summary: Sets after the Buu saga. What if Vegeta decided peace wasn't enough? What if Vegeta gives in to his darker self? What if dark prince returns with a vengeance tenfold? WARNING: YAOI (male x male pairing) Don't Like, don't read!


Sinister

* * *

><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z or its characters. I do, however, own the plot.<p>

(Edited) WARNING: YAOI (Male x Male pairing) **Don't like, don't read. ** I included the warning to _clarify_ the meaning of Yaoi. Yaoi is a slang word meaning homosexuality that is used in the japanese language. I apologize if anyone got confused or angry by it but I will not remove a gay story from this site. I included those three main characters for this story because they all play an important role. I put this story under mature rating for a reason. This is an extremely dark tale. This tale includes Bisexuality, Male x Male pairing (yaoi), torture, and violence.

AN: *Le gasp!* What's this? A new story, a new plot?! Oh, the insanity of it all!

I just couldn't resist writing a new yaoi story. I wanted to write something canon to the DBZ timeline for once, and I'm pleasantly surprised that there wasn't many fanfictions compared to what I have planned for this story.

This time you will not find any love-gush in this tale. None of the saiyajins are in love with each other; so don't expect anything from either of the full-blooded saiyans. Don't expect love will enter the equation. In fact, I don't even know if love is present in this tale at all. This is a YAOI story, and, yes, this is Vegeta X Goku story.

Lately, my mind has been obsessed with the darker aspects of DBZ, particularly Vegeta. One night, an idea approached me. That one idea transform into a story, burning into mind. A What-If scenario entertains the notion of a certain Saiyajin Prince. What if Vegeta decided peace wasn't enough? What if Vegeta gives in to his darker self?

What if dark prince returns with a vengeance tenfold?

And for you lovely readers, I present, "_Sinister_…"

* * *

><p>No Regrets<p>

* * *

><p>It's been three years. Three years of mind numbing, senselessly <em>boring<em> peace on this backwater planet.

_Three years far too long..._

It's been three years since the last bout. Three years since the last major action in this backwater planet. Three years since the mind of the royal prince was free, no longer haunted by dark thoughts. _Heh. In fact, I welcome it._

_Back then, there was a voice penetrating deep within the recess of my mind, whispering. Always constantly whispering. It's been whispering ever since I was brought to life the first time around. Eleven years ago. I paid no attention to it, of course. I filtered the whispers with a mental obsession, of besting Kakarott. To regain the honor as a saiyajin warrior. I kept my mind busy through all these years and the whispers became nothing more than a soft wind breezing by now and then._

_That is, until Kakarott stopped by for a single day. The day he visits from the Otherworld._

_The day my mind ran blank, unshielded and vulnerable to anything. The day the whispers return hundredfold, screaming with a vengeance. It screamed with blood boiling rage, demanding a return. The return of the Saiyajin no Ouji._

_I tried my best to shut it out. Shaking the whispers away in futile effort, there were more important matters at hand. I filter my mind once again with strategic thoughts, casting the whispers asides for one final match with the younger saiyan. To finally best Kakarott._

_Instead, he only gave me a cold shoulder, brushes me aside as if I was a chore. As if I was no longer a potential opponent, worthy for a legendary saiyajin. As if the Third Class' strength was infinitely better than his own prince. As if he sees me a fruitless effort and couldn't be bothered with. That fucking, selfish ingrate!_

_That was the day the whispers stopped. When the whispers reasoning finally clicked. What it's been telling me what I should have known all these years. Everything - __**everything**__ became a perfectly sound clarity. Like I was stuck inside some heavy fog and now seeing the clear sky for the first time in a thousand years. Earth made me tamed, docile. Physically, I was the same man as eleven years ago but, mentally, I'd been asleep for a long period of time. Now I am wide-awake, instantly alert for the first time in ages. I had been asleep for far too long. From that moment on, I swear Kakarott will pay for his insolence. For dismissing his Prince and for denying his Saiyajin heritage. It was time Kakarott know the true meaning of punishment._

_It was time to revert who I was before: a merciless killer, purger of worlds, destroyer of many._

* * *

><p>Vegeta stare out the broad window mutely, arms crossed. He stands there in the tallest building of the city, like a powerful figure watching over the world. He stares unseeing at the starry night bustling with air traffic.<p>

_~Flashback~_

Pebbles rising in mid-air. Malicious grin. Teal eyes. "M" carved into his forehead. That _power_. That alluring sense of instilling _fear_ in his victims. That horror in his victims' eyes when he blew them to oblivion. His smirk broadens, eyes never leaving the Earth savior.

That harboring gripping sense of _freedom. _Two utter syllables has never before taste so delightful.

_Free_ to inflict pain in others. Free from being chained down. Free of his domestic life. _Free_. The term freedom had never been so raw, so powerful, so addicting. So _tempting_.

Free to be himself again. Free to once again be the fearsome Saiyajin Prince.

_~Ends Flashback~_

He didn't regret any of it. Not once. Not back then and _certainly_ not now.

_~Flashback~_

After the battle against Kid Buu on Supreme Kai's planet, the return trip back to Capsule Corps was uneventful. _… or so I had thought_.

Whispers hushed when he graced them with his presence. Their eyes betray them, staring at him accusingly. All of their eyes say something different. Disappointment. Detestation. Livid. Revulsion. Hatred. Vegeta raise his eyes to meet others, challenging them to meet his glare but the Z warriors all look away. Looking at everything but him. Hell, even Kakarott looked crushed and wary, as if the whole world rests on his shoulders. The Third Class didn't even spare him a glance. As if he lost all faith in him.

_Hn. Whatever._

"How _could_ you?! _How could you do this to us?!"_ The blue haired heiress tosses breakable items at the approaching Saiyan. "You **_murdered_**all those people and for _what_?! To beat Goku?! You _SELFISH_ **BASTARD!**" She pounds her fists on his chest, weeping yet angrily accusing, "WHY did you _DO_ this to us?! To me?!" The dark prince grips her hands, staring down at her fiercely. She rests her head on his powerful chest, Bulma sniffles, "I thought we were doing so well. I thought you were finally _happy_..."

The royal Saiyajin tilts his head away. That tiny action was enough to make her sob in despair.

_~Ends Flashback~_

That night ended any relationship they had. Marriage. Love. Lust. Gone. Dissipated by that one action. He didn't explain or make some lame excuse like a scarred ningen would. There wasn't any need. He has no regret for what he'd done. No regret for submitting to higher power. No regret for killing those people. No regret for losing the love of his annoying onna. No regrets. None at all.

Guessed he should have expected his human wife can't understand. Refused to understand him. For what he is and always will be - a saiyajin. Heartless, cold, ruthless - all of the characteristics of a true saiyajin warrior. Everything unlike that brain-dead _clown_.

He once considered settling down, raising a family like the onna suggested. But he preferred the chaos- the sheer thrill of it. Fighting in a deadly battle, never knowing if odds are in his favor, adrenaline coursing through his veins and more. All of the highlights for a refined saiyajin elite, but one thing for sure: peace was not for him. Despite what the onna believed, he grew restless and more restless over the years. Pushing him harder and harder, to reach beyond his limits in his trainings. In the end, a peaceful life was unfit for a Saiyajin warrior. Especially for a prince. He was born, bred for royalty lineage and for battle but not for this. Not for this... pointless peace.

He scrutinized at the scattering people below. _Bunch of gnats...passing by without a care in the world. Heh. Foolish ningens…_

* * *

><p>Vegeta turns from the view, strutting away. He uncrosses his arms, hands lying beside his sides. His pure white gloves stained with blood. He stepped pass the blood-splattered walls, his foot immediately crunched through the bloodied skull of an unlucky soul, continuing as if he never missed a pace. He walks up the pristine, coiling stairway, leading to the corridor. He mindlessly passed the trail of bodies, the obscene scene horrifying beyond imagination. Limbs torn apart, flesh hanging about, blood dripping from the walls and valuables.<p>

He tore off his gloves, dropping it to the wooden floor, leaving it behind. Cracking his sore neck, he enters the ostentatious bedroom, ornamented with royal purple designs. He lifts off his spandex shirt and toes off his golden tipped boots. Heading toward the bed still, he slides off his leggings, casting it aside. Vegeta settle onto his stomach. He wraps the thick, comfortable blanket around him, intending to sleep for days. He stares unblinkingly into the pitch darkness.

_Plop...plop...plop..._

Heightened hearings picks up sounds of a water drops somewhere in this building. The sounds strangely soothing to the prince. His eyes slid to close.

_Plop...plop...plop...plop..._

His eyes close shut. Beckoning for bad dreams to come. Same old nightmares. Same old darkness.

Tonight he had broken his first sacred vow as a Z warrior and, this time, there were no foreign forces beckoning him, reverting to his dark nature. He'd done it all on his own. There will be no third chances, no pardon for he'd done. He had willingly and selfishly killed the very people he'd sworn to protect. He murdered for sake of necessity and for prosperity. But tomorrow...

...Tomorrow, he'll begin with the world. Ebony eyes snaps opens, a crazed obsession pooling in those pupils.

**_Earth!_**


End file.
